A young girl named Robin, swam in her pool
A stool was parked by the side
It made a dark shadow beneath
The girl watched it, from within the pool
Crooked it looked under the sun
A tall figure loomed along
Her mother was inside the house
Baking some pineapple pies
Her favourite
The young girl, swam to the other end
The shadows followed
The stool, seemed to have moved a few cms
from its original place too
Her voice quivered and she gave out a feeble cry
There was music being played on full blast
Her elder brother loved it like that
Every window pane knew it in the house
It’s 10’o’clock and Rocky is home
Listening to his favourite tracks
The floors were overworked too
Rocky, flaunted his muscles, the mirrors didn’t know where to look and go
They were placed everywhere
Meanwhile, Robin, was still in the pool
The water in the pool seemed to have risen too
And mom was busy in the kitchen
Making pancakes and spring rolls
Robin loved them both
The pineapple pie was ready too
The fresh fruity flavours she looked forward to, her mind salivating
But for the shadow and the stool
Soon, she saw mom’s Apron, faint yellow with a blue lace, now hung on the nail
Robin knew, mom will come out by the poolside to call her in for breakfast
Robin waited, but there was no sign of her mom, yet
She was now worried as the window panes
didn’t vibrate anymore
Her brother had put the music off
There was absolute silence
Except for the lone eagle which hovered above the house roof
The shadow grew bolder and taller
In its crookedness it moved along with the wind and the one beneath the stool
Soon, Robin heard her mom, calling out her name, shaking her vigorously
Wake up, wake up my baby
So, even today you slept away on the float, no swimming happened for two consecutive days, now wipe off that drool off your face
Robin woke up, was in cold sweats in the month of December
And happy to see the crooked shadow
In all its loveliness, it was the tall leafless tree, moving along the wind
And the stool, it lay where it was
Under the sun, of course making a shadow of its own